


The Rest Is History

by nine_thursdays



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Series, Simmons is lonely, So it's a bit shit, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2221404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nine_thursdays/pseuds/nine_thursdays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Dexter Grif and Dick Simmons meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rest Is History

**Author's Note:**

> My first work in the rvb fandom, sorry if it's not great.

Simmons had been in Blood Gulch for five weeks.

Simmons had had only Sarge for company for five weeks.

Simmons had regretted joining for five weeks.

Most importantly, Richard Simmons had been lonely for five weeks.

So when he’d heard that red base command were sending another soldier, he’d been excited.

So that morning saw Simmons watching the helicopter drop an orange-coloured figure on the grassy plains between red and blue base.

Since Sarge had informed him earlier that he ‘didn’t give a flying fuck who they were sending’ and would be spending the day sleeping, Simmons climbed down to meet the newbie.

The person in orange approached, looking awkward, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he spoke

‘’Are you, uh, Richard?’’

‘’It’s Simmons. You are?’’

Seemingly caught off-guard for a second, the other man replied

‘’Oh, uh, I’m Dext- Grif, I’m Grif, I guess.’’

Simmons snorted

‘’You guess? Aw man, you gotta get your shit together or Sarge’ll think you’re useless.’’

Turning before he could see Grif’s reaction, Simmons began to walk back into the base, calling over his shoulder

‘’Come on, I’ll show you your bunk and stuff.’’

As they walked inside, Simmons was thinking: knew he’d been harsh on Grif, but the man struck something in Simmons. He didn’t know what, but put it down to loneliness, and decided to try and be nicer.

They turned into the bunk room, which held eight bunks, but only one of which was used – Simmons’ bunk.

When the other man didn’t move, Simmons nidged him in

‘’Well? Pick one, dude, don’t just stand there.’’

Grif wandered in, picking the bed directly opposite from Simmons’ own, and he wondered if this was by design, and the yellow man sat down, looking around.

‘’Is it always this…’’

Simmons wondered how that sentence was gonna end. Dirty? He’d tried to clean a bit. Dull? Yes. Cold? Nah.

‘’…empty?’’

Simmons sat on his bunk, a sighed

‘’Yeah.’’

He took off his maroon helmet and ran a hand through his short brown hair.

Grif did the same, revealing a handsome face with cheekbones to cut glass, and a buzzcut hairdo with a dull blonde tinge.

But it was the other man’s eyes that captivated the red soldier.

They were a stormy grey colour, like how Simmons remembered clouds on earth being before it rained.

‘’What?’’

Oh shit, he realised too late that he’d been staring.

‘’Huh? Nothing.’’

The other man shrugged and let it go, pausing before he spoke again

‘’So what’s it like out here?’’

Simmons debated lying, sugar-coating the boredom, but something about the man in front of him inspired honesty so, rather bluntly, Simmons replied

‘’It’s shit.’’

Grif shrugged again

‘’I’m sure I’ve seen worse. Besides, with company like this, how bad can it be?’’

And here the yellow man flashed Simmons a slight smile, and that something in the maroon man seemed to flicker in interest, and he smiled back.

Grif was always indifferent to everyone, seeming uncaring, but never to Simmons.

But then, the rest, as they say, is history.


End file.
